Glimpses of Dawn: The beginning of the end
by Ellesemera
Summary: "You're afraid…" He looked at her face in concern. "What's the matter, Hermione?" Her lips trembled as she looked from his face to the vacant spot where the couple had danced only a few moments ago. Was she dreaming? "I want to go home." Her voice cracked as he enclosed her in his arms and nodded.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

* * *

She wiped her hands on the apron and looked outside her kitchen window. There was nothing to show that something sinister lurked in the ample shadows lining the driveway or the garden.

_Perhaps it was all an illusion. It couldn't possibly be true. _

_Perhaps_.

She lifted the breakfast tray off the counter and carried it to the dining room where her husband was engaged in teaching their four year old son. An unwilling smile swept away the anxious turn of her mouth as she put the tray down in front of the two and sat down beside him.

"I don't understand." Her son pouted and crossed his arms. "Don't like this very much."

With that, he pushed away the notebook towards his father and jumped off his chair, waddling out of the door way on his tiny legs in ill temper.

"Alex! Come back here!" his father called after him but to no avail. Hermione had the sudden urge to laugh at them. Their son, Alexander, was rather averse to learning mundane things of study such as theory in subjects.

True, she did not believe him to require studying it at such a young age but Severus was adamant.

If he had had his way, he would drill a hole into his son's head and pour all the knowledge of this world and the magical one into him.

"Let him go." She put a hand on his wrist when Severus made to move towards the door. "He'll be fine. The doors are locked."

Severus sighed and shook his head. It was strange how everything had changed between them within a span of four years. What had begun as a reluctant partnership with personal grievances against the other had dissolved into a fruitful companionship of sorts. She was no longer afraid of him. He no longer hated her.

Hate was a very strong word.

"You seem distracted today," Severus commented as he picked up his issue of the Daily Prophet.

Hermione gave him a small smile and sipped her coffee. When she had first received the note, she had panicked. But since it had been Christmas Eve, she had brushed off her worried cogitations and had tried to put on her best face for her family.

She had received the windswept note ten days ago and she was still worried. There could be something in it, true, but it felt surreal. Tom had died. She had killed him.

He could not have possibly lived.

"I'm fine," she lied to him. "It's just some things on my mind lately. Nothing too… just things."

Severus looked at her curiously but went back to his paper without further questions.

_It was all a delusion, wasn't it?_

No, it had to be one.

Tom was dead.

She had killed him.

"The Minister requires that we be present at the function today evening," her husband remarked once more and looked her way. "You would attend, of course?"

"Yes, I suppose."

* * *

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. It was strange how four years had changed her countenance from sorrow-laden to one of quiet content. The sky-blue dress she had donned was close fitted and flattering to her figure. The round neckline lent certain charm to it as well. Her bushy brown hair was tied behind her with a simple black ribbon.

It was too plain for a Ministry function but she had no desire for embellishments.

"Where are you going?" Alex asked her loudly. He was sitting on her bed with his favourite toy car, a Muggle one, _something_ that her husband disapproved of very strongly. But he did not always have his way.

"Just outside for a bit at the Ministry," she turned and replied with a smile but was graced with a fallen face from his side.

"Oh. Right." He began to pick at stray threads in the covers of her bed.

He acted strangely for a boy of four. He would go from being extremely jubilant to borderline depressed within a span of few seconds. It concerned her and her husband greatly but there was very little they could do. She had hoped that his instability would pass with age.

"What's the matter, honey?" She scooped him in her arms and kissed his temple. "Why are you so sad? Aunt Lucia would be here to watch over you… You have nothing to worry about."

"I'm not 'fraid."

She caressed his hair and cuddled him sweetly. "Then what is it that disturbs you?"

Alex said nothing and kept staring moodily at her sheets.

"You know that I love you, right?" She touched the side of his face gently and ran her thumb over his skin in soft motions.

"I know."

"Then why can't you tell me what it is?"

He shrugged and pressed himself deeply into her chest, clutching at her robes tightly. She felt him shake against her.

"I don't want you to go," he sobbed quietly.

"But I'll come back within a few hours…"

"No No…!" he whined into her clothes. "Don't go."

She found herself torn at his insistence. Every time she went out, he cried.

_Was she a bad mother for leaving her son alone? _

"Are you ready? Lucia's here." Her husband's voice interrupted the exchange between mother and son and she was forced to look at him with tearful eyes.

"Do I have to go? He doesn't want me to…" she mumbled and brushed Alex's hair as a small tear escaped her eyelid.

Her husband stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. "He has to learn. You will not always be here. Come one, we're getting late…"

The pressure of his long fingers on her shoulder was warm and reassuring.

* * *

Her fingers enclosed the cradled liquid languidly as she watched from afar. It was a magnificent party, to say the least. The Minister was very fond of such gatherings and this no exception. She sipped the purple liquid slowly as she watched her husband speak to the Head of the Auror Department, Marcus.

It had been so long since he had died.

His face, his memory was a thin scar on her heart. He was fading slowly and yet she was scared.

The note… It could not have been from him. But there was no one else.

She closed her eyes but was interrupted in her musings by Marcus's daughter.

"Married life treating you well, Hermione?" the girl asked flippantly. She had not forgiven Hermione for Tom's betrayal.

After all these years…

_Oh well._

"Of course," she answered smoothly and turned away from her, hoping the girl would be affronted at her gesture and leave. But she was built of sterner stuff than that.

"No, I don't think it is…" She tapped her fingers on the table while Hermione stood with her back to her.

"It really is none of your business, is it?" Hermione had not desired to be rude in her remarks but there was a limit. "I hope you have a good time." She shook her head and moved to another side where she found her husband in conversation with a few people in dark robes.

"Is everything alright?" He bent a little and asked her.

"Yes, it is." Her eyes scanned the multitudes of guests who danced on the other side of the room…

She wondered if she had disturbed him.

"Would you like to dance, then?"

He held out a hand to her as she looked up into his eyes. He had meant it.

Sincerely.

She smiled a little at him and took the proffered hand as he led her onto the dance floor.

"There is something on your mind, surely?" he asked her once more as they moved silently against the masses of glittering human beings. She looked at the pale sheen that surrounded his face and shook her head.

"No, everything's fine…." she whispered as she held onto him and stepped rhythmically with him. "I don't like leaving him at home."

"He needs to learn… You cannot always be with him." His fingers caressed her hands gently.

"I would if I could."

"I know."

As she swirled around the black diamond floor and flickering lights claimed a slice of her anxiety away from her, the warm air indoors encased her body closely never letting go. She felt his heartbeat through the thick robes and was tempted to put her head on his chest just to confirm it was there.

She had come a long way.

From the corner of her eye, she sighted something. It was a young couple dancing some way from them was rather. It was the glistening halo surrounding the face of the young man that caught her eye. His face was familiar. The chiselled features, high cheekbones, a Grecian nose…

Her heart stopped for a moment and she blinked.

It wasn't _Tom_.

Her eyes had deceived her.

In her fright, she hadn't realised the squeezing grip she had on her husband's hand.

"What's the matter?" he inquired softly.

She swallowed and looked at the same couple again. Her eyes must have been deceiving her. They had to have been.

It wasn't him.

"Nothing."

He caught hold of her chin lightly and raised her face. In the darkness, it was difficult to remember things and easier to forget. Yet, she could do neither.

"You're afraid…" He looked at her face in concern. "What's the matter, Hermione?"

Her lips trembled as she looked from his face to the vacant spot where the couple had danced only a few moments ago.

_Was she dreaming?_

"I want to go home." Her voice cracked as he enclosed her in his arms and nodded.

_Tomorrow_.

She'd tell him about it all.

All her fears.

She prayed that they were baseless ones.

Tom couldn't possibly have survived.

* * *

Because you all asked so nicely, I would like for them to have HEA... But yeah, it will be a long journey. Do tell me if you want more... I'll write if you like it...


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

"Hermione…?"

He startled her.

She was undoing the clasp that held her necklace fastened against her throat. The evening had been tiring, to say the least. They had Apparated home soon after the honours were concluded but for some reason, she felt drained.

The mirror on the wall reflected her husband's concerned face in the doorway.

After all these years, they still slept in separate rooms. Visits to their respective boudoirs were few and far in between. It did not make a difference, though.

There was affection between them.

"Why did you panic at the gathering?"

The chain was soft against her scarred fingers and she realised what a long time had passed since…

"I'm not sure…" she murmured, looking out into the darkness. There was no moon gracing the sky that night. "I… I have some concerns…"

"I see," came his expressionless voice. "Where's Alex?"

"I put him to sleep…" Finally, she turned away from the dressing table and looked him in the eye. He was closer now, towering over her in an intimidating fashion as was his wont but it did not affect her anymore. He no longer frightened her and she knew that his intention was far from it."He was so… distressed when we returned… He thought that I would leave him and never return… I-I don't think I can take it anymore… I don't… It's so difficult, seeing him like this every time we go out… Every time I even suggest…"

He brought up his hand and caressed her brown locks of hair tenderly.

"He's just a child, Hermione… Children do suffer from separation anxiety at such a young age…. Don't worry yourself overmuch about it…" He kissed her forehead softly. "Tell me what's bothering you…"

She sat down on the small stool placed in front of her dressing table, fidgeting with her hands.

Should she tell him?

He was her husband, after all.

He had a right to know.

"I'm afraid that he isn't dead… That he might… return." She swallowed the rising anxiety in her chest and looked at him. "He said some things, terrible things before I… before he died. I just…"

His jaw hardened to stone. A muscle twitched in his otherwise blank face as he surveyed his wife.

"What things…?"

Hermione drew a sharp breath, feeling her lungs slice her insides and wondered how she could tell him.

She had to do it.

He had the right to know.

"He… That his magic would continue to haunt my… our son. That his life would be forever shrouded in darkness because-because of my association with him.." She broke down, the mounting worry too much for her frazzled nerves. "I don't know what to do… And seeing Alex pine for me every time I leave him, it's like he's waiting for me to die or something, like…"

He placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, causing her to sniff and wipe her nose.

"It won't happen, Hermion. He had no Horcurxes at the time. The magic that he invoked, that would have brought him immortality… perished when our son was born. No, _listen_ to me." He squeezed her shoulder in a comforting gesture when she opened her mouth to argue. "Magic does not survive the death of its source in living objects. There is no reason to believe that our son is in any way still affected by Riddle. He cannot."

His words made sense. Although…

"What if he did not die though? What if he- somehow _survived_?"

"You _know_ what he wanted. His plan…" He broke off, looking away from her. "He did not survive, Hermione. I know that because of _this_…"

He revealed the scarred skin on his arm. The Dark Mark was gone. Only burnt flesh and discoloured skin remained as reminders of his past, their past…

"You have nothing to fear…"

Hermione stared at his face.

He was right.

There was no reason to be so afraid.

No reason to panic and worry her husband…

He wiped the lone tear sliding down her cheek with a large thumb and his eyes trailed down to her trembling lips. He followed the outline of her lips with his thumb and pressed his mouth softly against her smaller one.

A tingling sensation eased down from her chest to her belly at his closeness. In all the years, despite the closeness they shared on account of a turbulent history together, they had never crossed the forbidden boundary. He had never tried to go beyond simple gestures of affection and camaraderie and she had never ventured beyond innocent touches of familiarity.

Not that she hadn't wanted to…

But it was … difficult.

Right now, though, everything seemed so natural…

Was it because she was afraid?

Because she was… vulnerable…

She sighed lightly when his lips trailed down to her exposed neck and pressed a soft kiss into her skin. Her hands went around his neck in an automatic fashion, like it was the most natural reaction, like this had existed between them for a long time…

What was she thinking?

Of course it was natural.

They were married.

And the more she thought about it, the more she knew that she was falling in… love with him. The progression was slow, yes, but the affection deep and genuine. In the years they had spent together, isolated from the world, he had never once raised his voice at her.

_He had changed too, hadn't he?_

"I'll keep you safe…" he murmured softly. "Even if your worries weren't unfounded, I'd never let harm come to you or our son… Don't be afraid of the dark…"

Her breath stuck in her throat at his declaration. She breathed deeply as he withdrew and looked into her eyes.

"You're right, I…"

"Shh…" He placed a finger on her lips and enclosed her small figure in his arms. "Don't speak…"

With a single fluid movement, he lifted her off her feet. For a moment, she panicked. But the warmth emanating from his beating heart was enough assurance. It was enough to know that… he was there.

The mattress dipped lightly under her slight weight but when he leaned over and kissed her once more, his palms resting against the surface created a huge dent which widened and deepened when he reclined on his side, playing with her hair…

She turned towards him, running her small hand over his rough jaw while her other hand was firmly clasped in his. A few seconds later, however, he caught hold of her wrist and kissed her palm.

Her feet tingled in anticipation.

He had never made love to her.

Never before…

"The lights…" he mumbled, catching hold of her waist and pulling her towards him. "Do you want me to turn them off…?"

She blushed as he scanned her face for affirmation or negation.

"No. I… I'd rather not…"

He smirked lightly, placing a firm hand at the back of her head and lifted it slightly while keeping her effectively trapped against his larger body and the mattress.

"You smell different today…" His breath caressed her skin lightly. "A new perfume, I take it?"

"Mmm hmm…" She touched the front of his chest. There were so many buttons covering it…

She began with the first one, knowing it would be a tedious task but persisted nevertheless while he kissed her jaw, the spot between her shoulder at the bottom of her neck and fumbled with the back of her dress.

"It will take too long if you try to undo them one by one." He stopped suddenly and caught both her hands, looking deeply into her eyes. He could see brief lines of mirth grace the corners of her mouth. She lowered her eyes, cursing herself mentally for being… clumsy at a moment such as this. "Let me get rid of it…"

With that task taken care of, he kissed her once more, this time it was fuller and more demanding than before… She was nearly breathless, aroused and pricking with desire almost at the same time…

And for the first time, she saw passion inflame his eyes as he scanned her face for some indication. He cupped her cheek gently and removed the upper covering of her dress slowly, his eyes roving over her naked flesh as it slid down.

She made to cover herself, more out of instinct that anything else, for he had never seen her fully unclothed before.

Not in those days….

And she had never laid eyes on his bare chest…

The criss-crossing scars on his pale, muscular front had faded to white. He kissed the crook of her neck, pinching the swollen buds slightly before moving on to caress her bare back.

"Hermione…" he whispered, bringing her desire-filled eyes to focus on his face. "Are you… alright?"

She nodded and smiled, moving forward to plant a full kiss on his jaw while he worked on the lower half of her dress and flung it aside.

"Severus," she breathed out, flushing a little as he fixed his attention on her face once more. "The lights… could you turn them off, please?"

He chuckled, taking a tender spot on her neck between his teeth, and began to undo the clasp of his belt. "I'm afraid that that is not an option now, my dear..."

She let out a groan of protest as soon as he withdrew from her and pulled her up. She landed against his rigid chest with a small yelp. He caught her just in time, so that she would not lose balance.

"Let me feel you…" he murmured in her ear and flipped them so that she landed on top of him, her small hands resting innocently against his chest as he ran his hand up and down her naked legs.

_Gods, this felt good…_

The hardened promise of desire he felt for her rested persistently between her thighs and she could hear him breathe deeply each time she moved.

"Do you love me?" she asked after some hesitation.

Why ask him now?

It was stupid.

Four years with him had changed a lot of things.

She needed to know.

She had his concern, of that she was sure, but she needed more. She needed him.

She loved him.

_Gods, how many times had she loved in her short life?_

Counting him, thrice.

What an irony.

He planted a wet kiss on her face, clamping his iron hold over her wrists and brought her arms over her head. She trembled when he slid into her slowly and sighed in pleasure.

He had not answered her.

Did he still love _her_?

_After all this time?_

_Lily?_

She rested her cheek against his shoulder as he moved sluggishly, almost painfully and placed his other hand behind her head.

_Why wouldn't he answer her?_

"Don't fear anything, Hermione…" He rolled himself in her and she felt her flesh bloom in ecstasy. "I'll take care of you. You should know that by now. There is nothing to fear… And even if there was, I would never let anything happen to you or Alex."

"I know…" she mumbled quietly, closing her eyes and breathing slowly as she was rocked back and forth against him.

It felt good.

_Divine_.

But somewhere at the back of her mind, his silence stung.

"Indeed." He played with her fingers while he moved them rhythimically, the slow agony of lovemaking gathering pace as short breaths became intertwined and she flung her arms around his neck in order to control the overpowering feelings…

"Would you miss me if I were gone?"

_Why did she ask that?_

Probably because he hadn't answered her question.

Love…

He probably didn't love her.

That must have been why.

He hugged her closer, stretching her further and ran his fingers through her hair.

"Of course." He kissed her forehead lightly and gave her a kind smile.

Her body convulsed in his arms as strong throes of pleasure swept through her and she buried her head in the crook of his neck.

Her beating heart wouldn't stop thudding. It simply wouldn't stop bothering her.

"There was a time when we… when you despised me and I hated you… We were so… cruel to eachother then…"

He nuzzled against her cheek and firmly enclosed her in his arms. "That was a different time… I don't think I could ever despise you again… Not now… Not after this…"

She almost laughed at his words.

But he hadn't admitted to any tender feelings.

Perhaps it was just respect, care and affection.

Nothing more…

"I love you," she whispered once again, her eyes drooping to close when he pulled a large duvet over them and patted her back.

He stayed quiet.

Perhaps he didn't love her.

It didn't matter.

She loved him.

* * *

"Alex! Stop moving." He was splashing furiously at her, refusing to sit still so that she could scrub the dirt off his hands and feet. Heaven knew what the boy had done early in the morning to produce such results.

"I don't want to," he whined and crossed his arms. She glared at him in reproof. He was getting more difficult to handle each day.

"Alright, how about this: I'll take you out to shopping if only you let Mommy give you a pleasant bath… It sounds good, doesn't it…"

The boy seemed to consider her offer for a second or two before he dropped his shoulders and let her hold him.

_He was growing up_, she thought as she wrapped him in a towel after the anguishing affair and carried him to her bed. His mood changed frequently and it was very difficult to ascertain when and how to tackle him.

Presently, after a brief touch of senile playfulness in the bathroom, he had settled to despondence.

"What's wrong?" she asked as she settled beside him and moved the towel gently through his hair.

It was raven black… Like his father's.

The previous night… had been wonderful.

"I'm 'fraid." He pouted at her as she hugged him closer to herself while wiping the residual water off him with the thick towel.

"Why so?"

He shrugged. "Just like that."

"Well, Mommy's here, right… You don't need to be afraid, dear…" She smiled at him and wrapped the towel around him once more. "I'll get your clothes, okay…"

When she returned with a blue t-shirt and matching shorts, she found him gazing moodily at the necklace on her dressing table.

"Sweetheart, why are you so troubled?" She ran a hand over his head after clothing him and kissed his temple. "You can tell me anything, you know…"

"I know…"

"Well, then?"

"Mommy?"

"Hmm…"

"You're going away, 'rnt you?"

Hermione's eyebrows rose at his declaration. She picked him up and carried him out of her room. "And why would I be going away from my honey-poo? I love you, you know that… I would never leave you. Let's have some breakfast with Daddy, alright?"

He buried his head in the collar of her robes and put his small arms around her neck. She frowned at the manner in which he clung to her, as if it were the last time…

"Is everything fine?" Severus asked her when she entered the dining room. To be honest, the house was too large for three individuals. It was a lot of work too. She pushed that thought aside for later reflection and nodded at him.

"Alex?" His father addressed the boy when he refused to leave Hermione's lap and sit in his high-chair. "Your mother needs to eat too. Come sit here beside me and we'll talk about something."

He clung to her despite her efforts to move him to the nearby chair.

Finally, his father pried the boy's fingers loose from around Hermione's neck and pulled him into his lap. For a moment, Hermione thought she saw his lower lip tremble but the next second she looked, it was gone.

"I don't want to eat."

Hermione looked at Severus. He was frowning at the boy.

"Why not?"

"Mommy's leaving."

She opened her mouth, conflicted at the motherly instinct that screamed at her to go and comfort her little son and her own resolution to help him get over this separation anxiety that reigned supreme in the little boy's thoughts these days.

"Your mother isn't going anywhere, Alex. Now be a good child and eat this." His father offered him a plate full of green vegetables, peas and bread.

"No." He shook his head vehemently and struggled with Severus's hold. It wasn't difficult for him to keep the boy still and seated but as he did not wish to hurt the child accidentally, he let go. Alex jumped away and ran to Hermione, wrapping his tiny arms around her legs as he sobbed into the thick fabric of her dressing gown.

_That_ did it.

She scooped him in her arms and planted heavy kisses all over his face, almost on the verge of tears herself to see her son crying bitterly. "I'm not going anywhere, dear… Don't cry, shh… I love you. I love you so much…"

Alex still sobbed uncontrollably, clinging to her as if the very hounds of death were going to drag her to hell if he let go.

Severus could only be a mute observer to the entire scene.

After a few seconds, though, he stood up and walked to the pair with resolute steps.

"It's time for you to go to school," he said firmly. "Come on. _Now_."

The last word had so much command, such immense power of will that Alex almost quietened and looked at his father curiously. Hermione was torn into two.

"Let him be, please." She hugged her son closer. "He doesn't have to go to school in such a state."

"Hermione…" Her husband's words had censure in them.

And _warning_.

He loved their son, of this she had no doubt, but he was not one to forego necessities in face of trifling emotions. And this, she believed, must seem to his eyes as something that need handling with a firm hand rather than mollycoddling.

And she knew that he was right.

"Go with Daddy." She kissed him once more and put him down. "I'll see you in the afternoon."

She watched as Severus offered the boy his finger and waited. Alex eyed it for a second before grabbing it reluctantly.

He wasn't so bad usually.

"I'll see you soon." Severus kissed her on the cheek and gave her a brief hug. "Will you be going out today?"

"Yes. I need some groceries. I'll be back before you do, though."

"I'm sure you will."

* * *

"Oh, I don't know, Lucia…" She tapped the wooden table with her fingers. "It could be a tricky venture."

"I know, Hermione, and that's what I keep telling Joseph every day.. but he just doesn't listen…"

Hermione shrugged and looked away. She was seated in a small coffee shop in the Diagon Alley. Lucia and she went to it every time they shopped.

"You're worried, aren't you?"

Hermione fumbled in her bag for a few knuts.

"It's Alex."

"He'll be fine. My mother's raised eight kids and she says it's a very normal thing. Besides, he's quite smart for his age. He'll be alright."

Hermione looked outside the glass window of the shop. The lanes were teeming with people. It was a colourful day.

And _beautiful_.

"I hope so." She sighed and put the money on the table, grabbing her bags quickly as she stepped out into the sunlit space with her friend. "Let's get this over with quickly. I need to pick up Alex from the school in about half an hour. Severus wants a pint of Mellowleaf for his laboratory. Shall we go to Abigail's apothecary? Or do you have something else to buy?"

"No, I've got all that I wanted right here." Lucia patted her bag lightly and looked in the opposite direction. "Abigail's it then. Our last stop for today."

The shop was small and crammed with Potions stocks, just like any other apothecary in town. In one corner, the proprietor sat at his desk, marking off the day's purchases. Hermione put down her bags and reached him immediately.

"Ahem, excuse me… Could you supply me with a pint of Mellowleaf?" she asked and added when the man gave her a stiff nod, "And quickly, _please_. We're in a hurry."

He hobbled off towards a small door.

_It must be the backroom_, Hermione considered. She was left alone with Lucia and a young female assistant.

"I know who you are," the girl said when she looked up from her clipboard and gave her a cheeky grin.

"Right," Hermione replied shortly. She was in no mood to humour curious bystanders. Because of Severus being who he was and his role in the war against Grindelwald, her family got enough publicity as it was. And she had a lot of negative publicity for her dubious choices and her alleged scarlet character with regard to her husband. It was only their fear of Severus that kept the general public's tongues in check.

But she knew what they thought of her.

A tainted woman, someone who came back to blacken her husband's doorstep when her lover ran out on her. The truth was far from it. Tom's blood was still painted in crimson across her hands and she could never forget that.

They said that he had taken pity on her.

For the sake of their son.

Perhaps it was true.

Maybe that was why he didn't love her.

Maybe… because he pitied her.

It didn't matter.

She loved him.

She loved their son.

And she was happy.

Suddenly, a strange strain of dizziness clouded her vision and she grabbed the nearest shelf to support herself.

"Could you please show me to the restroom?" she asked the cheeky assistant in a faint voice. The girl frowned and pointed to another door. This one was brown.

The colour of mud.

A wave of nausea hit her and she literally ran to it.

Once inside, she bolted the door shut and emptied her bile into the washbasin in front of her. She sprayed her face with the cold water and put her head between her elbows.

That felt better.

The room stank, though.

"_It's been so long, hasn't it?"_

Her heart stopped.

For a few seconds, she felt like she had turned to ice.

It was _his_ voice.

His reflection was Tom's.

The chiselled contours of his face, the elegant grace in his bearing the Grecian nose… everything was just as she remembered.

It was him.

_Tom_.

No.

Not now.

_Fuck_.

She reached for her wand but the crinkling snap of his fingers divested her of it. It whooshed away from her pocket in the blink of an eye and landed at his feet.

He raised his eyebrow at her flimsy attempt.

What should she do?

Scream?

There was Lucia.

But she would never be able to defeat Tom.

No one could.

Not him.

"Turn around, _darling_…"

Her throat went dry. She felt like stitches were coming undone in her chest. She gripped the basin as hard as she could while turning around.

It was him.

Just as she remembered.

Just as she had wanted to forget.

"Tom…"

"_Hush…"_

He clamped his hand over her mouth and breathed deeply.

Everything about him was the same, every bit… except his eyes.

They no longer shone with softness in their gaze as they took in her face hungrily, greedily… They were cold and shut. They were glazed. They were…

Ice.

Sweat lined her brow and she could feel the drops trickle down her arms and legs…

What could she do?

Knee him in the groin?

As soon as the thought entered her mind, Tom's mouth twisted into a strange sneer.

"I wouldn't try that… if I were you. You wouldn't like the results..."

_Oh Gods._

She sucked in a harsh breath when his hand over her mouth travelled down to her jaw and held it tightly, painfully… wanting to hurt and choke her…

His face was awfully close to her clenched teeth, sneering at her foolish attempts to keep a brave front…

"You'll want to close your eyes for this, _darling_," he murmured quietly into her upturned ear. "It is going to hurt…"

Her eyes widened and before she could realise, fathom his intent… he flicked his wand at her.

It was still pale, just as she remembered.

There was a great rush of green comingled with yellow and purple, clouding he vision, clouding her senses, squeezing the life out of her and she collapsed at his feet.


End file.
